Injured
by Mocha-Berrytan
Summary: Ezio's technique is beginning to slip and his injuries are getting the better of him, but still he won't listen to Leonardo and sleep.  EzioxLeonardo


Today had been a particularly hard day for the assassin; his target had been far too prepared and his own execution extremely haphazard. Exhaustion was getting to him and _Venecia's_ rooftop archers had proven difficult to silence. Ezio sighed, tearing down another 'Wanted' poster before clumsily leaping from the ledge he had been situated on. He needed to rest. But with the rumours of his latest victory whispering through the streets no inn was safe, and to ask the Thieves Guild to house him again would be asking them far too much – it was clear to him that he was becoming a liability.

A courtesan brushed idly passed him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze; a woman would certainly not let him rest. "I'm sorry, not tonight _Signora_" He muttered, shrugging free from her grasp; it was no surprise to him that she showed no sign of displease and instead moved onto the next lonely man on the street. Ezio once again scanned his surroundings, still unsure of Venetian landscape, before starting to walk hurriedly in the direction of a familiar workshop.

His crusade against the templars had taken him so far away from home he was eager to see a familiar face. Cautiously he lowered his hood down and lifted a bruised hand to lightly rap on the intricately carved wooden door, and to his relief the door opened to reveal the dishevelled artist – who looked almost as tired as Ezio felt.

"I am sorry to call on you so late, _mio amico_."

The assassin's voice was hoarse and raspy, his side was bleeding and his feet were sore. The artist regarded him with a worried look before ushering him in and urging him to sit in the workshops only chair. In the corner of the room was an unfinished portrait of a noble woman and above a small song bird whistling away – this was obviously a new addition, but he wasn't in the mood to quiz.

"Leonardo I-" But Ezio was cut off as the artist got to work removing his blood stained clothing with a sharp needle and thread waiting patiently on the side; clearly eager to fix the assassins new wounds. "You're last escapade was not as secretive as you others, Sir Ezio. You need to slow down. Rest. You are losing the knack, clearly." Ezio didn't reply, instead bracing himself as the needle crudely pierced through broken skin, forcing the two raw edges back together.

"The Templers will not wait for me to rest and get better." There was a harsh bitterness to his tone, but unprepared for the next stitch Ezio winced, causing Leonardo to shake his head in disdain. The artist could see was the why Auditore was so desperate to continue, but he would be no use to the world if he was covered in wounds and delirious from exhaustion. "And what good will you be to Giovanni if you can no longer throw a knife straight?" There was an awkward silence as he finished the last stitch, tied the thread and cut the needle free. A warm, wet cloth was placed on the wound to soak up the crimson blood which had begun to seep into the assassins tanned skin. Leonardo had realised that mentioning Ezio's late father was probably a step too far, but he needed a reality check.

"Sorry." Ezio placed a bruised hand over the artists which held the cloth and brushed the soft, mature skin there. "I will rest" He smiled down and Leonardo returned the smile, thankful that he'd finally gotten through. It was then Leonardo who leant up, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against Ezio's in a soft, sweet and short embrace. "_Sono lieto_, some sense is in that head of yours."

The kiss itself had no ulterior motives behind it, and so the artist was shocked when Ezio had reunited their lips for a second embrace – and yet this one lingered. There was a heat between them, and suddenly Leonardo felt himself push further and further into the kiss – now hoping for it to blissfully develop. They had never really done more than simply kiss each other as a sweet gesture of thanks, but now it was evident that there was something ...more. Ezio had never really thought about it before, as he had always found his comfort with women, but there was something oddly alluring about Leonardo Da Vinci's figure. His personality. It was all somewhat...feminine. And perhaps that was the reason why Ezio placed a hand on Leonardo's cheek and urged him forward, as if hungry for more.

Finally they broke apart, panting like wild animals and staring at each with that same intent. "We shouldn't, Ezio..."Leonardo whispered, his cheeks flushed due to embarrassment. He was thinking of their relationship, of how something as demeaning as sex could affect it, but was also considering Ezio's recent wounds. It was obvious had more than just the one injury.

However, Ezio hadn't listened this time. Instead a smirk crept onto his scarred lips as he stood and grasped Leonardo's collar – pulling him up and leading him towards the small bed which was situated in the far corner of the workshop. "Ezio!" Leonardo shouted, forcing himself out of the assassins grasp by pushing his chest with an unknown strength. His cheeks were flushed and his heart racing, but the artist was determined not to give in to what was obviously Ezio's sexual curiosity. "You are tired, use this bed for yourself, I will sleep elsewhere." Leonardo managed to speak with a commanding strength; he wouldn't have the fool-hardy assassin hurt himself because he was horny.

"_Mio Dio_, Leonardo, loosen up."

Ezio stepped forward, intertwining his fingers within the inventors' hair and tugging him into another kiss. "You can't pretend you don't want this. I will rest, no more work for a week, but why don't you soothe my pain, hm?" His voice had gained such an alluringly perverted husk that Leonardo felt himself sagging into the clutch of his captor. Their lips brushed and Ezio looked down into Leonardo's eyes with an eagerness which was so hard to deny that he found himself leaning up and claiming another kiss, as well as helping the killer lead him towards the bed. This was wrong. But he knew that Ezio would not drop this, and so the painter allowed himself to be lured into the sexual trap that he knew would ruin their friendship.


End file.
